


Play In The Dark

by AssButtBat



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Dark, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Happy, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 23:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19073254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssButtBat/pseuds/AssButtBat
Summary: Jason surprises Bruce with a middle of the night visit and demands a little more than Bruce is willing or able to give him.





	Play In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own DC or its characters. 
> 
> WARNING--Rape/non-con. Dark and twisty. If this isn't your schtick, don't read.

            Bruce didn’t open his eyes right away when his bed dipped, and he felt someone sliding over the sheets to join him. The air was soft and paper thin, like naked fingertips grazing lips and cheeks. Wanton and silky. Just cool enough to warrant the need to slip deeper into the covers and tug it close to his chin. It made him want to revel in the sleepy hush of predawn crawling in through the closed drapes.

             It had been a long time since someone had snuck into his bed after a nightmare. He suspected it was Damian. Even Dick. He was loath to break the silence and the quiet dreaminess of the dark. So, he didn’t right away.

            But when he did finally fumble in the sooty black with seeking hands in the direction of the warmth to his right, he was surprised to find the hard bite of armor and not pajamas. Any illusion of the sleepy peace he’d been soaking in, vanished in an instant. His eyes shot wide.

            “What are you doing here?”

            The words sounded like an accusation. Only silence greeted him in response. Erie, stifling quiet.

            Bruce didn’t know how he could have missed the differences before, even as drenched in sleep as he’d been. There were obvious tells to give the young man away. Awake, staring wide-eyed and confused at the shadowy figure looming in his bed, Bruce was acutely aware of the identity of his visitor.

            Jason.

            Cigarette smoke clung to the air and the scent of black coffee. Leather and spice. The sharp tang of sweat. An unbidden shiver rushed up Bruce’s spine and prickled the hair at the back of his neck.

            “Jason, what are you doing—”

            Bruce’s repeated question was cut off before he could finish. Jason was suddenly on top of him, pressing him into the mattress like it was nothing. Like Bruce didn’t rival Jason’s weight and musculature. The air gushed out of Bruce’s lungs on contact and he instinctively squirmed to change position. To get leverage. To move.

            But he couldn’t. Not without hurting Jason and he wasn’t going to do that. Not ever. And they both knew it.

            Bruce didn’t understand what Jason was doing here, ambushing him like this in his bed. Smothering him with heat and jagged weight. But it frightened him.

            “Cat got your tongue old man?”

            Bruce clamped his lips closed and waited. He couldn’t get in a good breath in this position, but he’d be damned if he was going to beg. Jason’s smile was a wet glint in the scant lighting and absolutely feral. Bruce fought the tremble that started at his middle and was threatening to spill into his limbs like honey. Large hot hands were bracketing his head, a silent warning not to move in his periphery.

            He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

            “Get. Off.” Bruce bit the words out with as much venom as he could muster.

            “I intend to get us both off.”

            Bruce stilled. Unsure if he’d heard Jason correctly at first over the pounding in his temples and neck.

            “Yeah,” Jason sighed, cocking his head, “you heard me right. That’s why I’m here.”

            “Jason, we can’t—”

            Bruce could only make a startled sound in the back of his throat when Jason’s mouth crashed down on his violently stopping him from speaking again. The kiss was cruel. More teeth than tongue and plenty harsh. Even so, Bruce felt himself responding to it. He could feel the unwelcome heat low in his belly trying to kindle and then spread. And he fought it savagely.

            It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be some dark and ugly thing, hidden in the dark where whispers told him it was _wrong._ Where they screamed _he_ was wrong for wanting this. For wanting Jason at all.

            Jason drew back, nibbled on Bruce’s bottom lip then sucked on it ruthlessly, till he barely caught himself from groaning. He was getting hard and any second Jason was going to feel what he was doing to him. He was going to know.

            “Come on, old man, give it up.”

            Bruce choked back a moan when Jason shifted, then started to _grind_ their hips together. The friction felt good. Very good.

            But this wasn’t OK. Jason was—Jason was his—Bruce’s thoughts blanked when a warm hand gripped the waistband of his pants and hauled him like he was a paperweight to the middle of the bed. Jason didn’t even give him a moment to collect himself, to figure out how to combat the assault and Bruce knew it was calculated. He knew that, in the back of his brain as his eyes scrunched shut and he arched without his permission into the wicked things Jason was doing to him.

Jason was everywhere. On top of him, around him. Hot hands groping and skating over his ribs and up to pinch his nipples. Bruce did groan then, and Jason swallowed the sound by kissing him till he saw black spots in his vision and his lungs were screaming for air, but he wasn’t stopping. And Bruce decided maybe he didn’t need air. Maybe he’d rather die right then.

Because he was opening his legs and it making it _easier_ for Jason to slip into position. He was practically begging to be fucked.

“Wait,” Bruce mumbled, struggling to bring back the pieces of reason. Struggling to make sense of his mind.

“No,” Jason growled, biting down on the juncture of Bruce’s neck and shoulder hard enough to make Bruce hiss and buck in pain.

            “Fuck, Jay.”

            “I’m going to. Patience.”

            “No. I—God—wait a minute.”

            Jason was licking a stripe down his belly, tugging mercilessly at his waistband till Bruce was springing free and his erection was being kissed by the cold air. Bruce did squirm then because it was now or never. He wasn’t going to have another clear-headed moment again before this got too far. Not that it hadn’t already but—

            “Fuck!” Bruce gasped, throwing his head back into the pillows when Jason’s mouth closed over his dick and _sucked._ The heat was exquisite. So much so, Bruce was suddenly terrified of coming in Jason’s mouth. “Stop,” he whispered, mouth dry as a desert, hands trembling in fists at his sides.

            Nothing happened. Jason kept sucking and licking. Making lewd noises that went straight to Bruce’s belly and made him moan like a whore. He was panting. And it was too hot, and everything felt too loud and his skin was suddenly too tight on his bones that felt like they were burning from the inside out.

            “I said—I said stop, Jason,” Bruce made a mewling noise in the back of his throat, something between panic and pleasure, “Stop!”

            Jason’s head stopped bobbing and iridescent cat’s eyes flickered up to study Bruce. “Why?”

            “Because—” Bruce panted out a few steadying breaths, then forced his eyes closed so he could think more clearly, “Because we can’t do this. It’s not right. It’s—”

            “Fuck you.”

            “Jason, you know this isn’t—”

            Jason was in his face so quickly all Bruce could do was flinch when Jason slapped him hard across the cheek. The sound of skin cracking on skin was deafening in the room and Bruce went completely still. His eyes suddenly burned, and his nose prickled, but he didn’t move. He didn’t fucking breathe with how Jason was looking at him. Bruce was in a compromising position. Naked, still half-hard and vulnerable.

            Jason was bigger than him. And infinitely crueler. They both knew it. They had simply never been in this sort of a position before. And Bruce was finding he didn’t particularly like it. Not at all.

            “You don’t speak unless I say you can.”

            Bruce ground his teeth, prepared for the blow he knew would come then opened his mouth to speak. Because he couldn’t be silent and just let this happen. This time he was hit hard enough it jarred the room and made everything wink in and out. Closed fist, not an open-handed slap. Jason started murmuring something in his ear, nibbling on the lobe, making gooseflesh rush over feverish skin. Bruce couldn’t tell if it was from shame at being slapped and then hit like that or from arousal. Or both.

             “I’m gonna fuck you so good Bruce,” Jason’s voice suddenly started making sense again and the idea of Jason being inside of him made the hardness return to Bruce’s dick with a vengeance. It made him arch off the bed as Jason ground their erections together and started kneading his hips. “That’s right. You can make a little noise. I won’t hit you again if you’re good for me.”

            Bruce wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Jason to fuck off but all that came out of him was a harsh moan. Because Jason was jacking him off slowly, rubbing calloused fingers on tender flesh. And Bruce had never felt like this before. Had never known it could feel so good. The little voice in the back of his mind, warning him that it wasn’t right, that Jason was using him, that Jason had _hurt_ him, that this wasn’t okay—was getting stifled by all the raw feeling. He couldn’t stop himself from wanting it. From writhing towards orgasm with desperation slicking his frame.

            When Jason nudged his knees further apart, Bruce let it happen. He’d gone lax and needy, aching for whatever Jason was going to give him. But when Jason put a slicked-up finger in his ass, Bruce jerked sharply and gave a startled grunt at the surprising pain. It cut through the hazy dreaminess Jason had lulled him into and made the room and everything in it clearer.

            Jason was on top of him, sweaty and warm, big. So big Bruce couldn’t see much around him. And Bruce was splayed open like a slut, having almost completely given up on fighting what was about to happen.

            “So tight, B. So, fucking tight.”

            Bruce sucked in a breath through clenched teeth when Jason worked a second finger in and started pumping his fingers, too fast for comfort. Much too fast. It burned. It didn’t feel good at all.

            “Wait—” Bruce started again, not liking how his belly was hollowing out and his reasoning was returning, making him feel absurdly like he was going to vomit. He didn’t feel like he’d been fully present for all of this and there was a sense of panic that he couldn’t even really remember the last five minutes, let alone the last ten. “Wait, Jason, this is too fast. Slow down.”

            Jason hesitated, fingers still slick and warm and inside of him. “Why?”

            “I—” Bruce swallowed thickly, “I’m not saying no. I just need it slower. It’s hurting.”

            “You won’t be hurting in a minute.” The fingers started up again and Bruce had to bite his tongue till it bled to make himself not yelp. “I’m gonna make you feel good, old man. Calm down.”

            The weight on the bed was shifting and Jason was acting like he was about ready to move on to the main event and that meant he was going to try and push his dick into Bruce. And if the fingers hurt, a dick was going to feel like hell.

            It was more than a shiver of fear that suddenly flooded Bruce’s mouth making it taste bitter and dry. It was dread. This was wrong.

            “Wait, I’m not ready,” Bruce grabbed Jason’s wrist, the one that was still pumping into him and tried to stop him. Jason slapped his hand away and growled. Alarms bells went off. Fear spiked into terror. “Jay—Jason. Please. Slow down. It hurts.”

            “Fucking pussy,” Jason hissed, pumping faster just to spite him, curling his fingers till Bruce whimpered. Bruce arched on the mattress and tried to squirm away because it was really starting to _hurt_ and the terror was lodging itself into his throat, making it hard to breathe. And he didn’t like it. He didn’t like any of this.

            “Stop that,” Jason snapped, jerking Bruce back into place with frightening strength. With strength that far-outmatched Bruce’s from his time in the Pit. This time, when Jason slapped Bruce across the face, Bruce was halfway prepared for it. But it still had the power to momentarily stun him. It still made him blink back tears and then wonder what the fuck was wrong with him.

            He was Batman. He was—he was—he’d wanted this, hadn’t he? He’d had fantasies for years about Jason and him together, writhing in the sheets.

God, it didn’t feel like it now.

            Bruce felt Jason bump into him with his dick before he started to push in like he was testing the entrance and giving Bruce a choice. Which wasn’t really the case at all.  

            “Jason stop, Jason—” Jason glared down at him, then started pushing in anyway.

            The rough fingering had done nothing to prepare him. He’d never done this before. He’d never allowed someone else to top him. Jason’s hips stuttered a little at the friction and Bruce’s body refusing to give entrance, then he slammed home with absolutely no finesse. Bruce bowed up like he’d been shot in the back and let loose a wild keening wail that immediately had Jason rushing to smother it with a hand.

His hand was sticky with lube and stuck wetly to Bruce’s face, clamping down on the sound and his airway at once. In the act of trying to silence him, Jason was going to suffocate him. The pain grew to a blinding degree until Bruce saw spots in his vision. His lungs burned. His fingertips tingled, and Jason didn’t even notice when he’d started to go limp beneath him and he was fucking into a ragdoll.

            Jason didn’t even notice that Bruce had clawed his arm up in his attempts to get a breath in.

            He was madly slamming in and out of Bruce, helped along, no doubt, by the blood wetting Bruce’s thighs and sheets. Bruce’s legs were bouncing loosely on Jason’s shoulders, each thrust jarring Bruce into the bedding, driving the pain up and up and up. Jason was whispering in his ear, clutching Bruce closer as he ground in tighter and tighter.

            “You gonna be quiet if I let you go? You gonna be good, old man?”

            Bruce’s eyes started to roll back in his head. Which apparently was an answer Jason was willing to take because he finally let Bruce’s mouth and nose go and Bruce gasped, sucking in air greedily, grabbing blindly to hold something, anything to help with the pain. Every muscle in his body was ramrod straight, fighting the intrusion viciously.  

            “Fucking,” Jason grunted, thrusting at a slightly different angle, “Bitch.”

            Bruce stuffed a knuckle in his mouth to stifle the sounds wanting to bubble up out of his chest. When Jason started hitting a new place inside of him, Bruce became aware of two things. One, it wasn’t all pain anymore, in fact, it was starting to feel like before. All liquid honey and molten heat in his lower belly. And two, Bruce was checking out mentally.

            He was dissociating.

            When Bruce’s dick had gotten hard again from that different spot Jason was hitting, Jason started to jack him off and the walls of himself started to shatter. Jason was doing something to him. Ruining him? It felt an awful lot like that. Wrecking him? Yes, that sounded about right too.

But all Bruce could do was take it. All he seemed capable of was moaning and wrapping his legs tighter around Jason’s hips, urging him to hit that new spot inside harder.

Because it was so much better than the pain.

            He could smell the cigarettes and the coffee again. The leather and the spice. And they soothed him. They drove the pleasure higher and made Bruce feel drugged with it. It was frightening how good it suddenly felt and when Bruce tipped over the peak and fell headlong into orgasm, he sobbed with relief. And then he couldn’t stop sobbing.

Jason finished shortly after and pulled out roughly.

            He ignored Bruce who hadn’t moved and was silently shaking with ugly wet tears.

            Then he returned with a towel and threw it at him.

            “Here. Told you I’d get you off old man.”

            “Jay—” Bruce’s voice was wrecked, shaky and small, “I didn’t want that. I didn’t—”

            Jason hissed, stalking back to the bed to glare down at Bruce. Bruce flinched when Jason dragged his knuckles over one of his cheeks. The skin felt hot and swollen where Jason had slapped and hit him.

            “You did. You wanted it. You’ve been begging for it like a bitch for years.”

            “No.”

            Jason leaned forward, rubbed his mouth on Bruce’s then pushed his tongue inside in a lewd show of power that made Bruce tense up because it made him want more. It made him lean into Jason, rather than away. And that confused him worse. It made the tears clog up his throat.

            “I gave you what you needed,” Jason growled.

            Bruce kept his eyes closed to block out the face of the person he’d once coveted. To not see the eyes that had haunted his sleep for too long. And would haunt it for many years to come. He’d always pictured them together in such a different way. Maybe more gentle. Maybe not. But not like this.

            Never with the bite of hate in Jason’s tongue or the punishment aching in his middle. The shame and guilt. The hurt.

            Surely, it hadn’t needed to be this way. Jason hadn’t needed to make him suffer for wanting him. Make him hurt for it. Make him feel like used trash.

            But maybe it had. Maybe he’d deserved it.

            When Jason left, Bruce curled onto his side and remained frozen, too sore and weary to move. Too hollowed out to believe that what had just happened, wasn’t simply a dream.              

                 

                 

               

                 


End file.
